He stopped in front of the sprawling brick Victorian-style house and put the car into reverse before turning it off and setting the parking brake. Finally, they were there. Or, almost there, she corrected as she opened the door and stepped out of the car. She grimaced as her heels sunk into gravel, but refused give in to the moan of irritation that was building in the back of her throat. Why gravel? There was no graceful way to walk across it on the best of days. But in heels with shaky legs? She’d be lucky if she made it to the house without falling and breaking her neck.
“Something wrong?” he asked as he offered her his arm.
She looped her arm through his and sighed. “Gravel? Really?”
“Surely you aren’t intimidated by a little gravel?”
“Says the man wearing sensible shoes.”
He scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the porch. “Still have a problem with my shoes?” This close to him, his warmth surrounding her, she didn’t have any problems at all. She wasn’t going to tell him that, though.
As they reached the house he put her down, but kept a hand at her back to steady her. It was unsettling how bereft she felt without his arms around her, but she could feel the warmth of his touch radiating through the thin material of her blazer and the silk cami she wore underneath. That helped. Still, she was suddenly overwhelmed with the need to fill the void with meaningless chatter. “You have a nice house.”
It was a stupid thing to say and the words were stiff, but he smiled warmly as he unlocked the door. “Thank you.”
His hand returned to the base of her back as he guided her down a long, darkened hallway. She tried to scan rooms as they walked past, but it was difficult for her to focus on anything other than the sensation of his thumb slowly caressing her.
Finally, after reaching the end of the hallway and going up a flight of stairs, they came to the room he’d been directing her toward. Following him through the door, she was a little surprised to find the bedroom elegantly decorated with antique furniture, including a gorgeously canopied four-poster bed.
“You look surprised.” He pulled her closer, close enough for her to catch his subtle, earthy scent. “Don’t tell me you were expecting a dungeon.”
She hadn’t been expecting a dungeon, but this didn’t strike her as a bachelor pad. It felt lived in—homey, even. “I have heard they’re quite the fashion.” She slowly began unbuttoning his shirt, revealing more of the intricate tattoo work. Running her hand along his chest, she gently removed the article of clothing and drank in the sight of his well-defined torso. He was truly beautiful.
He took a step away from her and held his arms out so she could see all of the markings clearly before turning slowly in front of her. “There they are, all of them.”
It was an impressive collection of the who’s who, but she was much more entranced by the ripple of muscle under the artwork. Facing her once more, he put his hands down and smiled at her.
“I’ve shown you mine, I think it’s only fair you show me yours.”
“Sit.” She nodded to the large bed.
He chuckled softly but followed the command.
Slowly, she let her blazer slip down her arms and drop to the floor. The conditioned air of the room made the hair on her arms stand on end and her skin break out in goose bumps, but it felt good after being in the sweltering heat.
“Silk and pearls. Nice.” He was staring at her with a naked longing that made her want to rush. But rushing a seduction was like rushing a good brandy. Sacrilege.
“I do love the feel of silk on my skin. But since we’re playing ‘show me yours and I’ll show you mine’…” She lifted the cami over her head in a fluid motion and then smiled at him as the soft material fluttered to the floor and landed in a puddle at her heels.
She stood for a moment so he could admire the contrast of her black lace bra paired with the business pencil skirt and high heels of the suit. “Should I take these off?” She ran a fingertip along the strand of pearls that encircled her neck. “Or would you rather I leave them on?” She didn’t mind playing submissive over the trivial things. After all, happy men were pliant men.
“On.” His voice was hoarse. She liked that.
“As you wish.” She imitated his earlier turn to show off her pristine skin. Now that she was nearly naked from the waist up, she couldn’t hide it any longer.
“You have no family, no alliances?”
“No, and I’m not looking for any,” she confided, unbuttoning her pencil skirt. The zipper slid down easily, and that garment fell into a heap on top of cami. Standing in front of him in only her heels, matching black lace bra and panties and pearls, she wondered how he’d feel about that. Family was important. But so was sex.
He shook his head softly as she took the first step towards him. “That’s good to hear.”
She had to fight against the urge to breathe a sigh of relief. “Not the commitment type?” She continued walking toward him as she admired the glow of the sun reflecting off his olive skin. Kneeling on the floor in front of him, she gently kissed his chest, sending a shiver of desire through them both. His fingers ran through her hair, tugging at her curls until she was looking up at him.
“Would you be here if I were?”
No. Maybe he did know her better than she’d originally thought. After pushing him back until he was lying on the mattress, she kissed his navel and then stretched against him to kiss his rib cage. “You’re right. I would’ve declined your gracious invitation.”
The challenge had just enough sting to get a reaction. “You would have declined, would you?” He pulled her on top of him so her mouth hovered inches above his.
Straddling his ribcage, she let her heels slide off before answering. “No amount of hotness is worth the complications of a commitment.”
“Hotness?” His fingers traced the path of her backbone. His firm touch sent a searing wave of desire through her. Arching her back, she moaned softly. “You think I’m hot?”
Nikki heard the low growl of impatience, but it took a second for her to recognize it as her own. “You talk too much.” She covered his mouth with hers, silencing him.
The kiss was filled with challenge and desire, making it both hungry and vulnerable at the same time. His arms closed around her back as she deepened the kiss, pulling her closer, until every inch of her body was pressed against his. The feel of his skin under hers was intoxicating.
Pushing him away, she sat up and stared at him for a moment before lowering her mouth to his neck. Her tongue sought out and found his racing pulse. Savoring the lightly salty taste of his skin, she started working her way down to the sensitive spot where his neck met his shoulder. Biting him teasingly, she heard him moan as his hands clenched her thighs.
“You taste good.” Her voice was husky, seductive—intentionally so. Here, she was in her element.
“And what if I want to taste you?”
God, this was just what she needed. “Feel free.”
“No, I mean all of you.”
There was no mistaking his meaning. Their magic lived in their blood and, although she’d never shared hers with anyone, she’d heard it was an aphrodisiac. One hardly ever offered because it could also be used to enslave another.
But he couldn’t enslave her—couldn’t evoke the blood bond because he didn’t know her name. There was no way to bind another without their name. Also, a person could only place one blood bond in a lifetime. No one would waste something that precious on a one-night stand. She’d be safe. And the thought of his blood on her tongue made her quiver with need.
“Will you bleed for me?” she asked, her voice heavy with desire.
“Sounds fair.”
Sitting up, he pulled a small knife from a night table and ran it across his wrist. When he’d cut enough to provoke several drops of blood he held it out to her. The magic in their blood prevented blood-borne diseases, so she didn’t have to worry about that. But still, she felt suddenly nervous.
She had no idea what to expect. The wave of desire that hit her at just the tangy smell of his blood was enough to overcome her nerves, though. Leaning forward, she touched the blood with just the tip of her tongue. His magic was a mystery, but the power of it rushed through her. She was flying with his strength, the constant anxiety and fear that ate away at her, gone. If this was how her sister felt on heroin, she could almost understand Izzy’s addiction.
“My turn?”
Even with her head buzzing, she felt a small measure of her earlier concern return but she quickly brushed it away. He’d lived up to his end of the deal. And if he meant to hurt her, he’d had plenty of time not to mention opportunity already. But he hadn’t harmed her in any way. In fact, he’d given her one of the most pleasurable experiences she’d ever had.
“Your turn.” She held out her wrist to him boldly. Nothing in her entire life had ever felt this good. Not even the knife slicing through her skin was enough to dull the sensation, especially when the warmth of his mouth covered the wound. She’d been wrong. Having him take her blood was even better than taking his.
He sucked in a ragged breath as the warmth of his body left her. Opening her eyes, she stared at him as confusion began to chase away her desire. She’d never wanted to be closer to another person than she did with him at that moment. Why was he pulling away from her?
“Nicola Lillian Rathe, I bond you to me with the power of your own blood.”
It took a moment for the words to sink through the heady desire that was wrapped around her, but when they finally did, white-hot anger killed what was left of the seductive warmth throbbing through her and made her breathing hard and ragged with disbelief. “What?”
“You’re mine.” He said the words triumphantly, but there was a sadness in his eyes. Refusing to see it, she leapt for the knife he’d left foolishly close to her.
“Like hell I am.” Her fingers closed around the sleek handle of the blade. She wasn’t an expert on blood bonds by any standard of measure, but she did know if you killed the holder, it’d set the slave free.
“You can try.” He held his arms out, giving her a clean shot at his heart. She’d never killed anyone, but if it was to free herself she was pretty sure she could. She tried to force the knife toward him, but as excruciating pain exploded in her head she dropped it again. “But the bond won’t let you hurt me.”
Cursing, she brought her gaze to meet his. “Bastard!”
His sigh was exaggerated. “If you can’t say anything nice, then don’t say anything at all.”
The word asshole sat on her tongue, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t say it.
“That’s better.”
The condescending prick was going to pay. Maybe she couldn’t hurt him directly, hell, now she couldn’t even call him names, but she’d figure out a way to make him pay.
“If you promise to play nice, I’ll let you speak.”
She shook her head emphatically from side to side.
“Fine, if that’s how you want it, I don’t mind the silence.”
Sitting on his bed, glaring at him, she was reminded of a game she and her sister used to play to pass the time. Raising her index finger, she pointed to him and then motioned him to leave.
He smiled as he stared at her. “Go?”
She nodded before imitating him jacking off.
“Masturbate?”
She shook her head. It was close, but not quite right. Raising her eyebrows, she put on her best seductive look and motioned from him to her before doing an imitation of them having sex, rocking her hips as he was between them.
“Making love?”
She would have laughed if she could talk. She shook her head again and pointed between them once more.
“Fuck?”
She nodded then pointed at him.
“Me?”
She rolled her finger in small circles asking him to pick a related word, but he sighed again.
“Fine, I give up. Speak.”
“Go fuck yourself!”
“How very ladylike.”
“Maybe you missed it, but I’m not exactly debutant material.”
“No, I didn’t miss that. But I was hoping for some civility.”
She laughed at the absurdity of the statement. “Because bonding someone against her will is civilized in your world?”
“Maybe not, but you freely offered me your blood. You can’t blame me for your miscalculation.”
He was right. And it sucked. She should’ve known better than to allow anyone close to her blood. She’d let her nature, her passion, get the better of her and now she had to pay the price for her stupidity. “You’re right. My bad, especially after all the times I’ve mocked my sister for the trust she’s put in our kind.”
“If it’s any consolation, mine’s made the same stupid mistake. Trusting one of ours, that is.” Fear and pain flashed across his face before his features slid into an unreadable mask.
“Trust makes idiots of us all.”
“I’ll send someone to your place to pick up your stuff. In the meantime, feel free to make yourself at home in the guest room just down the hall. You’re going to be here awhile.”
She glared at him as she got off the bed. “You do realize I’m going to break this bond, don’t you? And when I do, I’m going cut out your heart while it still beats.”
“I wouldn’t expect any less from a Rathe.”
She didn’t think she could be any angrier, but she was wrong. No one compared her to her father and lived. Grabbing the knife again, she charged him. Pushing through the incapacitating pain, she concentrated on her rage. For one moment she thought she was going to be able to do it but, as the tip of the metal touched his skin, everything went black.
Chapter Two
Isaac’s heart was still pounding as he stared down at her almost-naked body. Fear from the near miss mixed with the desire still burning through him, adding a rush of adrenaline to the already dangerous hormones pumping through his system—pushing him to do something, anything. But his options were limited. His survival instinct demanded he neutralize the threat, which was unacceptable. And every other instinct he possessed demanded he wake her up and fuck her until he’d worked her blood out of his system, which was also not going to happen.
Damn it!
He stepped away from the bed, giving himself space from the temptation it held. It wasn’t enough, though. Taking a deep breath, he ran his fingers through his hair and tried to regain some sense of control. Yeah, good luck with that.
Fuck. What’d gone wrong?
The trap had been perfect. He’d gotten it right down to the second, due in large part to the great pains he’d taken in studying seductresses—learning how much interest to express to engage and, more importantly, how much indifference to use in order to ensnare. But there was nothing that’d even hinted at the strength of her blood, or how heady it was. Nor had his research told him how powerful she’d be.
He reached down and picked up the knife from where it’d fallen next to her. The cold steel of the blade reminded him of how it’d felt on his skin. It was only in that moment that he allowed himself to acknowledge the full weight of his fear. For one moment, he’d honestly thought he was going to die. He would’ve deserved it, too.
But he hadn’t, he reminded himself. The bond had held. And, with any luck, it would continue to hold until this was done. He had to stay in control, though. That was the key to holding a seductress. And if he had any hope of staying in control, he needed to get her covered.
After taking a steadying breath, he grabbed his shirt off the floor. It took some maneuvering to get her arms into the sleeves, but it was a lot easier than trying to wrestle her back into her own tight clothing. And, after buttoning it, she was at least somewhat covered, which made it worth the effort.
The racing tempo of his heart had slowed to almost normal when her milky-white skin disappeared beneath the thick linen, but any sense of calm was lost as h
e picked her up and carried her to the room that was going to be hers. Having her snuggled in his arms, her face awash in the innocence of sleep and her disheveled black curls tickling his bare chest, triggered his protective streak.
Perfect, like she hadn’t fucked with his head enough when she was conscious. Now she was screwing with him even while she slept?
It wasn’t really her fault, though. Even as messed up as he was right now, he knew that. And blaming her only made him feel worse about the whole situation. Forcing the bond on her had been a shitty thing to do. There was no way to get around it. It was something he’d never imagined himself capable of doing. Then again, he’d never thought he’d see the day Rathe would have his sister Molly captive either.
Yeah, life’s a bitch. Now, man the fuck up and get this done.
Tucking Nikki under the thick blankets, he allowed himself a minute to admire the graceful curve of her neck before forcing himself to walk away. She was going to hate him. She already did. He had no right to admire anything about her. But he did, and not just that luscious body of hers. The woman was fearless, not to mention tenacious.
Yeah, he’d noticed her pause when she’d found his enforcer’s ink. There was no way she’d forgotten the enforcers’ role in her family’s demise. Still, she’d determined what she wanted and she’d gone after it. She had guts. And skin smoother than that strappy silk top she’d thrown on his floor.
He forced himself out of the memory as he firmly closed the door to the room behind him. He needed space. And a drink couldn’t hurt. Didn’t matter what, anything to make him forget the taste of her blood.
Rounding the hallway, he took the stairs two at a time but was stopped by the ringing of his cell phone. He grabbed it out of his pants pocket and, though he cursed when he saw the name on the view screen, answered it. “Hello, Mother.” He was happy his voice didn’t betray any of his nervous energy.
Bond Betrayed Page 2
